


You are Jeff

by TheHuskyDragon



Series: We’re all going forward/none of us are going back [15]
Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Biting, Emotional Baggage, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Marking, Mental Instability, Nightmares, Paranoia, Post-Coital Cuddling, Premature Ejaculation, Some comfort, off screen sex, top higgs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23169241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHuskyDragon/pseuds/TheHuskyDragon
Summary: Higgs keeps dreaming.
Relationships: Sam Porter Bridges/Higgs Monaghan, vague higgs/amelie kinda
Series: We’re all going forward/none of us are going back [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551493
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	You are Jeff

**Author's Note:**

> mmm i meant to finish this before my break but. that wasnt gonna happen lmao. this chapter is a mess but... intentionally yknow,, the start of higgs going a bit crazy ;)
> 
> title from a richard siken poem, which i quote directly and indirectly

_ Fuck Sam _ ! He doesn’t know shit about Higgs!

Does he _seriously_ think Higgs wants to become a damn terrorist again? Live in a shithole bunker if not in his shithole camp, with his shithole terrorist apostles?

Higgs was once the herald of the extinction, the _harbinger of death to all_. Now?

Now, he’s _nothing_. And… he’s fine with that. Higgs _didn’t_ enjoy constantly being the center of attention, having to decide things for himself because no one else was given the _raw power_ he was. 

Higgs could feel it in his fingertips…

He can’t anymore. That everlasting, faint tingle gone. Even though Higgs can feel his fingers just _fine_ still, it feels like they’re numb now; his fingers having lost their sense. But no. It’s Higgs that’s lost his _abilities_. 

But he feels them slowly come back. At night, if he really focuses, he can sense the tingle. It itches right below his skin, like bugs. 

Mekal feels it too. An everlasting sense of doom hanging over them. 

—

Higgs dreams of _Her_. 

He screams. Thrashes, but he can’t _fucking_ move. He’s frozen in place with pure fucking fear. He doesn’t want to see Her beautiful face, can’t stand it. 

They’re on… Higgs and Amelie are on _his_ beach. He’s—

  
  
  


_ He’s never seen his beach.  _

It’s fucking _barren_. Sand as black as tar, as if it was stained by it. The water is nearly still, the few waves retreat and leave shiny residue, like there’s an oil spill somewhere far in the ocean. The water is dark and murky, the foam more plentiful than Her beach. 

All for but the patch they’re on, the rocks are jagged and sharp, barely leaving much actual sand too far past the water. Thick fog blocks the path to the high hills and dark mountains on the horizon. The sun is setting— or maybe rising, leaving the sky all types of reds, oranges, yellows. The sand and rocks are matte. Disjointed from the sky.

Higgs is breathless when he looks around, and realizes his head is in Her lap. He can’t fucking move. Not a finger. 

“I could help you again. We don’t have to try for an extinction event… please, Higgs.” She says, or, that’s what Higgs thinks. He barely hears Her, but the words roll over in his mind anyway. His ears ring. 

“—NO!”

  
  
  


Higgs hides his wail in his hands. He nearly jumps out of his skin when a warm, calloused hand falls on his shoulder. 

“Higgs?”

_It’s Sam._

They’re in a safe room, Sam having deemed it too dark to venture anymore. At the time Higgs didn’t complain. He was tired. 

When Sam sees Higgs’ tear-soaked face he wraps his arms around him. It’s awkward almost, they’re sitting hip to hip but Sam’s head rests on his shoulder. 

… he’s so _warm_. 

…… Sam is so warm it _hurts_. 

Higgs holds his breath to stop the next sob, but it wrestles it’s way out anyway. Higgs _hates_ how he cries messily against Sam’s shoulder, how Sam doesn’t say a _damn word_ and just holds him tighter and tighter. Higgs’ hands clench in the shirt Sam wears, black tears— tar or mascara, Higgs doesn’t know— and snot and spittle dampen the fabric. 

Higgs eventually wrangles his way out of the hold, only because he _knows_ he’ll get too worked up and pass out if he keeps crying like this. It’s happened before and— well, he doesn’t want to make Sam worry. Not any more than he actually is. 

“... you wanna talk about it?”

Higgs rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, knows fully well that it’ll smear the black of his tears all over his face. He shakes his head while a ragged sigh-sob leaves his dry throat. 

“No—“ he says, nearly chokes on his own spit, “it was— it was about Her.”

Maybe it’s because it’s _Too Fucking Early_ o’clock, but it takes Sam a moment to get it. His eyebrows raise under his sleep-mussed hair. “Oh,” he says softly, and then, “Christ, _seriously_? Jesus fuck Higgs.”

Higgs chuckles a bit while still crying. He can’t stop. Any time he calms down, he chokes up and starts all over again. _Fuck_ , he’s exhausted. 

“Can we go back to bed?”

Sam tilts his head a bit, like he was expecting him to say something else. Usually Higgs asks if they can fuck when something goes wrong. 

He lays down on his side, facing Higgs and holding his arms open. 

Higgs lays down too. Snuggles up to him until his face is buried in his chest. Higgs falls asleep still crying. He doesn’t want Sam to leave. He doesn’t want to leave Sam. 

* * *

He feels suffocated in the safe house room. Sam said he was starting to build the cabin. _Their_ cabin. Said he didn’t want Higgs to see till it’s finished. 

Or he’s just trying to get away from Higgs. 

How does Sam even _know_ how to build a house? Higgs knows he doesn’t want Bridges spying on them anymore, so there’s no chance of him using some PCC. Would some other Bridges member help him? ~~Higgs doesn t want them to~~

Building a whole cabin on his own can’t be easy… not that Higgs would know, so maybe it wasn’t _that_ hard. ~~Maybe he s not even building _shit_ and he just needs to _get away_~~

Sam told him to relax for a bit; their last delivery knocked both of them out. But, _fuck_ , does Higgs want— _need_ to do something. 

Well… Mekal is laying on him, on Higgs’ back as he’s laying on his stomach. By The Laws Of Pet Ownership, Higgs legally _cannot_ move. Which is quite frankly bullshit. What Higgs _wants_ is to be fucked by Sam, which he also can’t do. _Fuck_!

Higgs huffs, then sighs as Mekal bumps his chiral face against the back of Higgs’ head. The beast isn’t terribly heavy, despite being the size of a lion, most of his interior is antimatter. Which of course is next to weightless. The exterior is tar and chiralium, the latter of which is lighter than air. 

He tries to keep the pressing thoughts of the fact that there are cameras in this room. He knows—fucking _knows_ that Bridges not only doesn’t have the time, but also doesn’t have the fucks to watch Higgs 24/7. 

But _still_. They must be watching sometimes. And if not through the cameras, surely through the cuffs. 

Mekal unfurls a paw from under himself to softly bat at the evil piece of machinery. The main part doesn’t budge, but the umbilical cutters open with a sharp click. 

The whole of Mekal jumps, and the beast bats more insistently at the offending cuff. It can’t hurt Mekal, Higgs thinks, more than any blade would, so it must just be feline alarm. 

“Get up,” Higgs grumbles, moving to put his arms under himself. 

Mekal grumbles back, a warbling growl from deep inside him. He doesn’t move a single inch. 

“Fucker. _Move_.”

The lion growls something alarmingly close to “no” and starts _purring_. 

Higgs tries to lever his upper body up, but all that does for him is get him a smack in the side of the face with a tentacle from his mane. Mekal obnoxiously extends a forelimb and begins cleaning himself. 

Higgs didn’t think he was tired, but he awakes squished between Sam, Lou, and Mekal. God _damn_ it. 

—

He dreams again, but not of Her. 

He dreams of the _stars_ , something he’s never seen with his own eyes; only in books.  [ He expected something else, anything else ](http://youngerpoets.yupnet.org/2008/04/17/you-are-jeff-crush-by-richard-siken/) . 

They hang in the dark sky like that, no mountains or clouds around him to see. They spin in the air like that. It’s beautiful. 

—

The next day— maybe? — Sam and Higgs stop by and talk to Deadman. There are few days he has to really relax, and it looks like the man really needs them. 

“What is that, Sam?” Deadman asks, nodding towards the untagged cargo box Sam’s holding under his arm. 

Sam inspects it as if a tag would magically appear. “Dunno. Me and Higgs found it when we were heading up to Mountain Knot. Doesn’t look dangerous but I thought you might wanna check it out?”

“It may not look dangerous,” Deadman says, giving Higgs a very sharp glare, “but let's hope it’s not anyway.”

… this fucker probably thinks he’s laying unmarked packages containing bombs, _huh_! Higgs has half a mind to utterly destroy all the equipment in any given room that he fucks around in, but that’d just land Higgs in deeper shit than he already is in. 

Fucker… the hell would Higgs even— it doesn’t even make _sense_!! To just leave a random package like that. If he wanted to— _which he doesn’t_ — he would make a simple bomb. It’s not hard. Or some inconspicuous poison, slip some in Deadman’s coffee, have a BT level whichever Knot they’re in. 

Deadman opens it carelessly, not that it matters as it’s… Higgs doesn’t know what it is. 

“The fuck…?” Sam says, stepping closer to the table the contents are on. “... gaming consoles?”

“Really old ones!” Deadman exclaims. “Wow, a GameCube? And a Wii? Sam look!”

“I’m looking,” he said, and actually sounded somewhat excited himself. 

“There’s even a few games, too.”

“Do they… would they work?”

Deadman’s eyebrows raise, “I think— I have some cables around…”

And _that’s_ how Higgs found himself, completely clueless at what Sam and Deadman we’re talking about. Higgs _certainly_ wasn’t complaining when he had a perfect view of Sam’s _ass_ as he bends over to plug various colored cables to an old TV. 

Or that’s what they say; Higgs never had any consoles or games down in his bunker, and Daddy always owned the TV, which became somewhat useless as the death stranding progressed. Sam looks at a cable, the back of the TV, looks at the cable again, and with a jarring noise, the screen lights up and shows a _supposed_ GameCube setup screen. 

They play through some of the games; Sam considerably better than Deadman, though Higgs isn’t sure how. Going by the very outdated technology, Sam couldn’t have played these since he was a kid, and Deadman didn’t seem like the… _gamer type._

Mekal, ever-present in Higgs’ trying times, jumps into the room through a puddle in the ground, and sits his fat ass on Higgs’ lap, completely obstructing his view. 

Well. He didn’t want to play anyway. 

—

Higgs is dozing in and out of consciousness as Sam presses kiss after kiss onto his body. He’s sweaty— they both are— due to their recent _coupling_. 

Higgs’ mind and body are still going through the lingering high when Sam presses a too-hot hand against his face. 

He can see Sam open his mouth to say something, but Sam’s eyes catch something on his forehead. Higgs feels his thumb trace a line from left to right across his forehead, a bit under his hairline. 

“... what?” Higgs asks. 

“It looks… like there’s stitches across your forehead.”

“You going blind Sammy? I’ve never had stitches up there.”

“Fuckin— look in the mirror for yourself.” Which Higgs _does_ do, pulling himself up from under Sam. He feels the shorter man’s release track down the inside of his thigh. The mirror unfogs and Higgs cringes at the sight of his flushed sweaty face appearing— reflexively mumbling an “ _ew_ ”. He wrestles his eyes off his reflection’s and looks at the space between the utmost tattoo line and his hairline. 

… _huh_. Higgs can see it too. Perfectly even with his flesh, there’s a line edged with… spikes of sorts. The scar is shiny if he tilts his head right, and a shade lighter than the rest of his unmarked forehead. 

It’s in the shape of a crown of thorns… his mark of being reborn after dying on the beach. 

Higgs scoffs. 

Another damn scar added to himself. 

“I think it looks cool,” Sam says, sounding a little exhausted, but genuine. “Looks kinda badass, yeah?”

“... yeah.” Higgs says, and beckons Sam into the shower. If he’s lucky, he can get Sam to fuck him again. 

* * *

They _do_ fuck again, a few hours later. Or maybe the next day. Higgs is getting really bad at keeping track of time again.

Sam allows Higgs to fuck him again. Higgs cums embarrassingly early, so pent up with frustration of not constantly being around him. Sam rubs his back with a chuckle—in a totally not-mean fashion. Just filling the space with something other than Higgs’ panting. Higgs keeps his hips flush with Sam’s ass, feeling minute clenching from the porter and only pulls out when it feels _way_ to fuckin much, the small movement pulling a low cry out of him. 

“You stressed, bud?”

_Is he?_ “Am I?”

“You’ve been like, super horny. You don’t usually ask to get fucked every day, let alone top.”

“ _Maybe_ I want to save topping you for _special occasions,”_ Higgs says as he falls to his side beside Sam. 

“That being…?”

_~~You putting up with me so long~~_ , “maybe it’s a _personal occasion_ , Sam.”

“Mhm.” Sam says, “suuure it is.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“Nothin,” Sam answers, wrapping his arms around Higgs, as if they weren’t sweaty and gross. Higgs weakly tries to wriggle out of his grip only for Sam to tighten his _strong, muscled_ arms around him. 

“Ew. You’re gross.”

Sam huffs, “you literally ate my ass earlier.”

“I don’t see the connection,”

Sam paws his hand over Higgs’ stomach, where some of Sam’s release is spattered there. Either Sam doesn’t realize, or he’s _fully aware_ he’s just making a bigger mess of the two of them. His fingers are sticky when they follow along his happy trail. 

Sam wordlessly brings up his fingers, lightly covered in his cum, and presses them against Higgs’ lips. 

He lets out a hmph, and opens his mouth. When he sticks his tongue out Sam gingerly slides them in. Higgs cleans them. 

* * *

Higgs dreams about having a brother. Now, you see— this would be a _good dream_ , had Daddy not been there. Nor Amelie as his _mother_. He’s a little kid again, all knobby boned and scrawny limbed in clothes that seem both too big and too small. His brother— or maybe sister, who knows— is faceless. Except… no… Higgs just _can’t see it_. 

Higgs is twelve years old here. He does not _have_ a brother. 

Or maybe he did. Daddy always knew he was a repatriate far before Higgs did, far before he could remember. And maybe his sibling wasn’t. ~~God~~ Death certainly is choosy with who she deems worthy. 

_ Was Higgs worthy? Sure. Why not.  _

He tries to say _hello_ to his sibling, but he wakes with tears plastered onto his face. 

* * *

Sam says that the blueprints and the framework of their cabin is finished. Higgs asks _already?_ Sam looks at him a little oddly.

* * *

Higgs hopes someday he can forget about Daddy. The first time he tries— and fails— to kill himself, is when he finds out he’s a repatriate. So _no_ , he didn’t _fail_ at dying. He failed at _staying dead._

Daddy is in the other room, Higgs in his own. The TV ~~or maybe the radio?~~ is playing a tune so loud it rings in Higgs’ ears. He beats Higgs when he asks if Daddy could turn it down, just a bit. 

* * *

He feels so fucking claustrophobic in the safe room. He’s supposed to feel _safe_ in it, but with Sam gone most hours of the day, and the rest spent with Lou he— needs to get out. Just for a bit. 

  
  
  


He sounds so, so worried when he says, _Deadman?_

The man answers, _yes Sam?_

Sam has to try multiple times to say these next words: _have you— have you seen Higgs?_

Deadman sounds concerned, but unbothered almost; _no Sam. Why do you ask?_

Sam is almost unheard with how quiet he is, _... never mind._

* * *

He hears the sound of sniffling. Something dripping onto the ground. 

* * *

Hey uh. Sam starts. _You think. You wanna help me with this delivery to Gordon and Niki? I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you again._

He... “... _who?_ ”

Sam doesn’t talk about him being gone for ~~...~~. He noticed, _had_ to have. Maybe Sam forgot about it? Higgs forgot Sam brought it up?

Who was he talking about anyway…

* * *

Higgs bites Sam the next time they have sex. Sam cries out loudly and wrenches Higgs’ head away. There’s a decent, bloody mark left. Sam sticks a finger in his mouth and pulls his top lip up. He tries not to drool. 

“ _Fuck_. Your teeth are getting sharp.”

Higgs pulls Sam's fingers out of his mouth to feel along them, “They are?”

“Hurt too. You don’t notice?”

He shrugs, and watches as a bead of blood tracks down Sam’s shiny skin. He doesn’t stop himself from leaning up and licking it. 

Sam huffs out a chuckle and continues fucking him, albeit _slower_ now. Higgs throws an arm over his eyes to cover the grimace of annoyance. 

“Higgs? You been okay recently?” He doesn’t move his arm. 

“What— what makes you say that?”

Sam slows even more. “You’ve been… odd. Forgetful? And you’ve been sleeping a lot but you’ve been waking from bad dreams a lot.”

“That’s how I always am.”

“No. I can tell you’re different.” Sam pulls out of him. Higgs makes a non-human sound of protest, flashing his teeth like he was turning feral. 

Sam grabs his shoulders and pulls him down to the bed. 

“The fuck’s your deal!?” He spits, grabbing Sam by the wrists. 

“What the hell is _yours_ , Higgs?” Sam doesn’t move, because of _course_ he doesn’t— he’s built like a brick shithouse. “You’ve been acting crazy for over a month now. Is it the mask? You’ve been wearing it a lot. And I— I don’t know… it’s like I can see it in your _eyes_. They…”

Something about Sam stammering pulls at something inside of Higgs. “They _what_?” He sounds meaner than he wanted. 

“They… turn blue? Not all the time but- but when you’re like _that_ …” Sam rolls off him and sits on the bed with his legs crossed, head hanging. “Maybe you shouldn’t wear your mask for a while… should probably see Deadman or- Heartman or something…”

Higgs gets up too. He’s automatically compelled to lay his hand on Sam’s shoulder, but stops himself… then he feels _awkward_ , feeling as if the moment’s passed already.

So he just sits next to him, less than an inch apart from touching. Higgs can, he _knows_ he can… he can’t see his expression with his hair fallen over his face like that, but a sniffle makes Higgs hold his breath anyway. 

“Who have you been dreaming about?”

Higgs notices he said _who_. Not _what_. 

“... Amelie… and my uncle…” it takes all of Higgs to not stutter on the names. Sam nods a bit. 

“I’ve… heard you say their names.”

Higgs’ face pales, and his mouth suddenly feels very dry. 

“Don’t wear the mask for a while.”

“I’m—… okay.”

Sam puts his hand on Higgs’ cheek, lifts it to brush away a tuft of hair. “So what if I go crazy again.” He says, a bit rhetorically. Sam rests his hand on the back of his neck and pulls him into a hug. 

“I’ll love you anyway, Higgs.” He sighs into his shoulder. Sam’s shoulder is still bleeding. “I love you. I really do.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is higgs-the-god
> 
> i wouldve made the scene with the old consoles longer/more detailed... but i dont,, have many detailed memories about owning any lmao,,
> 
> leave comments or kudos. it fuels me. hpefully the two weeks i have absolutely free ill spend writing porny requests. if yall wanna request something hmu on tumblr


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